Fishing the Secret Spot---a Telltale

Fishermen probably are pretty much always thinking, "What was it really like back in the day?" Just what was fishing like when the hoards didn't have access to every pond, stream and river. Truth is it is really hard to know.

There have been many writers, be it Norman Mclean and his River Runs Through It, or Ted Trueblood blathering about his exploits in Field and Stream, but really the only way was to have been there and actually seen some fishery in its pristine state. But to do that we'd have to be 150 years old.

In my case 68 years is enough to have some recollections but still even then in , say 1957, things had already been altered. However, I suppose I could use that as a baseline because I did fish all the time, but then I was young and had no real skill and only marginal equipment---like no fish finders---we still don't have one as we believe they are immoral.

The baseline is only a 1957 baseline and nothing else. So if I say, "Back in my day we would get 10 strikes if we went out on Montello Lake in an afternoon." There might even be some question as to my actual memory, and just maybe a tendency to exaggerate a little. So presently if I go on a regular basis to Montello pond and only get two strikes on a Silver Minnow, then I might say things are not as good. Generally, this is my attitude. Not as good.

And again this base line is a shifting thing, or maybe it is called the Shifting Baseline Syndrome where one only can compare something to what one knows and not to an old baseline of 150 years ago.

Anyway, I believe we just found a better way to check the way fishing used to be, that would be back in the old days. It seems we have found a place where no one else fishes because they do not know about it and it is very difficult to reach. It is a bitch and believe me, there will be no $50,000 bass boats in there. It is like it was.

The truth hurts, I am afraid. Hurts bad. In a few hours, it is possible to catch 10 bass, 5 Northerns and maybe a Tiger Musky (we did see a big boy). The fish are large, strong and fat. The message clear, there was a time.

A Big Tree That Had To Go

The first time I saw the tree was 35 years ago and at that time it was huge, a huge leaning White pine sitting in my brother's front yard. The trunk was about 3 feet across and the entire thing extended upward 100 ft or better. (There is a dude in the tree for scale)

Through the years the old beauty was a center piece of the northern yard, but it was always a bit of a problem in that cars were parked under it and the tree did have a perspiration problem that left pitchy leavings on the vehicles. Now, if the cars were junkers, then the tree probably just added to the ambiance, the country look, but as they (my kin) became more affluent (I was going to say effluent) the deposits rather detracted from the general appearance, and maybe left friend wondering if they really lived deep in some forest in a subterranean hut as was rumored. Plus, even if a small branch were to fall the resulting alteration to the body would compromise even their accepted standards.

But the bigger problem was as the tree grew and as the winds blew, it was tilting more and more to the southeast---and in the direction of the house. A few years ago, one tree in a similar location had been hit by lightening, shattered and fell safely in the yard, but this one was larger and now over 120 ft tall. It was becoming clear that if it fell, with its massive tonnage and all, the entire house would be flattened if not vaporized leaving my kin in ill repair. In second thought, it would be a closed casket affair consisting largely of parts.

I just kept leaning, and leaning and the wind continued to blow---mostly from the northwest. A couple of days ago a smaller tree fell and landed 20 ft from the house. That was it. Death of a tree, while tragic, is not equivalent to a death of a couple of reasonable folks.

So the tree guys came out, trimmed the lower massive branches, climbed to the top, topped it and worked downward in 8 foot hunks. Today it is gone, cleaned up but not forgotten after 150 years of growth and regal display.

Fishing The Rogue River------Issues

There we were standing at waters edge preparing our lines to approach the half-pounder run of Steelhead on the Rogue River. It was mid day, which by most fisherman's estimates is like going to a night club in the morning, or attending a Supreme Court session thinking that they would make a decision to remove a corporation from being a "person".

Never the less, it was a absolutely gorgeous day there in southern Oregon, the water was clean and cold, eagles flew over head and the mighty forest of the coastal climate framed our setting with elegance and dignity.

We fisherman were dressed for the occasion, decked out in various costumes including vests, hemostats, large billed hats and wadding gear. Generally, we looked good but not over done. We all had fly rods and not cane poles, and a large can of glistening nightcrawlers. We were sportsmen full of intent and good wishes. Ann wanted us to be successful.

While I was having a small problem getting about due to various injuries accumulated doing some questionable activities, like playing basketball, football, and oh yes, there was those five years of rugby at Wisconsin, fishing was still obtainable and wondrous.

To top it off there were no other fishermen, none. Unlike the Root River near Milwaukee(actually in Milwaukee) where combat fishing is the call of the day---you know, handguns, knives and submerged mines. It was beautiful.

Only one problem. There were no fish on this particular day because they were off in the ocean having tea and biscuits. Did I really care? Oh ya, but not alot. I was on the Rogue, dude.


Then it happened. Coming straight up the pristine river was this thunderous roar, not unlike a jet. It was the sound of power, of size, of movement, of America. There it was a giant jet boat filled to the brim with grinning tourists out to see the Rogue River and the few stupid fishermen. For good folding money all of the participants could see the river in all its glory, they could burn up a hundred gallons of fossil fuel while sitting on their cans.

Why hell, for 3 dollars they could have floated in a canoe---and they would have seen the eagles all in peaceful quiet. Ya gotta love America.

The Money---Revolution Watch

So many times we hear about the financial woes of the USA, but it truth, it is really hard to figure out what is actually going on. I mean, the numbers are so big that nothing makes much sense. In truth, everything we hear is alarming and appears to be ridiculous. So what I did is run down one person's way of putting it all together.

Here is why S&P downgraded the US credit rating.
• U.S. Tax revenue: $2,170,000,000,000
• Fed budget: $3,820,000,000,000
• New debt: $ 1,650,000,000,000
• National debt: $14,271,000,000,000
• Recent budget cut: $ 38,500,000,000

Now let’s remove 8 zeros and pretend it’s a household budget.
• Annual family income: $21,700
• Money the family spent: $38,200
• New debt on the credit card: $16,500
• Outstanding balance on the credit card: $142,710
• Total budget cuts: $385

I have many times said humans don't get scale, and they don't get the exponential function but these figures hit it on the head. So what does this have to do with a revolution. Lots, I reckon. If the public gets a drift that our elected leaders are doing this they might become unglued.

Of course, the same thing is happening in Greece and the rest of Europe (particularly Germany) wants them to sell their country to them to pay off the debts and in the process give up their sovereignty. I just don't think that will fly and the bricks will begin to fly----oh, they already are but we don't see it in our mainstream news. Interestingly, our debt, and trillions of it, are held by China and oil states. I'm not liking this.

"I wish it were possible to obtain a single amendment to our Constitution - taking from the federal government their power of borrowing."Thomas Jefferson, 1798

"When a government is dependent upon bankers for money, they and not the leaders of the government control the situation, since the hand that gives is above the hand that takes... Money has no motherland; financiers are without patriotism and without decency; their sole object is gain."Napoleon Bonaparte, 1815
Barstait provided

Gotta Love the Warmer Globe

Well, things are bit odd. Here we are on the 19th of October and there has yet to be a sign of frost. I take that back a bit as there was a little kiss of 32 degrees a couple of weeks ago. But the truth is it didn't even kill the squash. In fact, while most delicate plants have just given up for lack of desire, there are some still growing like it was summer.




It is no secret that the Brussel Sprouts love this weather even if it does freeze, as do the broccoli but the Chaco Canyon Beans, that would be the ones found in a cave in Chaco Canyon, are still growing. There is even a squash out there trying to put on a good show by expanding some six inches in the last two weeks. I'm sure it is all in vain due to the fact that as an adult it is supposed to be one of the monsters. Still, nice effort dude.


I do find it interesting that many plants just shut down by Oct 1st no matter what the weather. They are just done, worn out, feed up in some cases if they have had a bad year, while others jump on the extra growing time. The chard is very robust but the tomatoes, while they signed out in Sept, still have fruit laying all over the place, some green but still ripening.


I suppose the warm weather puzzles me, and some of the plants. Their genetics tells them to throw in the towel, or do the dirt nap, but there is still opportunities. Those not so programed just keep going. It must be that the native Americans of Chaco Canyon selected out the bean that would not quit. Not a bad trait for a changing world. Handy adaptation.

Oil Depletion---Net Exports

In the past 4 or 5 years there has a great deal of banter about peak oil. This is the point where no matter how hard we, as humans, try to extract the precious liquid from the earth, the amount gained can not match the amount being depleted from older wells. We simply can not continue to exponentially expand oil production no mater how fancy the technology gets.

This discussion does not even take into account the fact that much of the new sources of oil, that would be all this unconventional production, will cost many times greater to extract. If it is tar sands, oil shale (there has, to my understanding, never been a single barrel of commercially available oil made from shale) deep wells and wells in hostile environments, it will not be dumped on the market at $100 a barrel.

This entire thing is a really big deal and is rapidly becoming an issue in the next presidential election. All we hear is "Energy Independence". What a joke. Presently we import some 12.5 million barrels a day and only produce 5.5 million. There is so much potential discussion here, but there is still another kicker. A thing called "Net Exports".

The Net Exports of oil is the amount available on the open market and any given time. It is the oil that is purchased by countries that can not produce enough at home. While the figure may be related to peak oil, it really makes little difference. If the USA wants to buy oil and there is none on the market, it will make little difference how much is in the ground. There simply may be a limit to what can be purchased. This will cause a shortage. A shortage will make us all squirm. It sure leaves me uncomfortable--- particularly when these candidates keep blathering as if oil is to just be be had by drilling more. It is a sad day. (Note the decrease in net exports from 2008 on!)

The Potato Machine---Failure

In the spring, we tried a little experiment after we had read the way to grow potatoes, at least if you have little garden space, was to fill a container with soil and then as the potatoes grew, keep adding soil. This would allow the vines, and entire plant to grow vertically, and in doing so would produce copious amounts of spuds.


Well, we set the rig up using a milk crate and then a plastic bag filled with dirt and supported by chicken wire---doing it like the advocating individual suggested. Seeing it is now mid October and it still has not frosted, and most potatoes have long sense gone night-night, we decided it was time to harvest and see if indeed we had a 20 Lbs of potatoes.

In digging, the soil appeared rich and well enough watered, the vines were still growing but dwindling. The upper portion held a number of spuds but none of them were of great size. As I dug deeper, the number of tubers declined but there was one here and one there. On the bottom there were a few more but interestingly, 3 of them had started to rot. I suspect the soil was too confining and not enough "breathing" was going on---like potatoes have lungs, dude.

The entire lot was washed and assembled so Chester could weigh them--he appears here in the process of evaluation. By our count there was maybe 3 pounds, a far cry from the anticipated 20 Lbs. While this was only a one-time try, I am still judging this a failure and a general waste of my precious time---but still a learning event and I do have those three pounds.

Javon's Paradox and our Motor Car

The Subaru only gets 25 MPG and as a result it is, by our standard, a bit expensive to drive. In addition, we feel that for the sake of the planet we need to consume less. Americana's uses 25% of the world's energy supply and we are only 6% of the population. We are simply racked with guilt over using so much energy to drive hither and yon.

Seeing the old car has some 200K miles on it, purchasing a new rig seemed appropriate and in doing so figured we'd get one that got 50 MPG, there by saving on the consumption of carbon producing fuel. It was just the ethical thing to do.

So, we got this VW TDI diesel unit that is some 6 years old. It is a beauty and has only 35K miles and sure as all get-up achieves 50MPG. So as a result of this improvement of efficiency we are of the mind that our move has helped fuel consumption globally and decreased carbon emissions. We are aware it is a diesel and there are some particulates but it is very "clean" and hardly smells like a diesel.

However, after going Steelhead fishing in Sheboygan some 110 miles away, it occurred to me that had I been driving the old subaru, I would not have gone fishing. In fact, had we had used the car that got the paltry 25MPG we never would have gone across country fishing and gabbing!

What we have here is good old Javon's Paradox which simply says that efficiency improvements don't necessary mean less consumption, but possibly more. I'm a loser, I guess.

Occupy Wall Street---Revolution Watch

The Sustainable Revolution will come in many forms, some subtle, most over a period of time and the worst of it, hopefully ushered in by reason and trust. But the winds are stirring and like the the heated overthrows of the Middle East and North Africa, the US is beginning to take notice of some of the injustices of our system.

Corporatism is coming under attack both in Europe and now here. It has often puzzled me how we, as a people could not notice how 1% of our population has more wealth than the lower 90%. When would we notice? When would we notice that the system is being looted by the super wealthy and the corporations. When would we notice that our leaders are owned by the big money? When would we notice that it is common to privatize the profits and socialize the liabilities?



Well, it is beginning to look like it is now happening. True, the mainstream media is not covering it, or if they are it is to belittle the protesters but there is a story here and an articulation. Naomi Klein is one. Listen. http://www.democracynow.org/2011/10/6/naomi_klein_protesters_are_seeking_change

Here too is a statement of intent by the more organized. This thing is for real and may make the revolution move a bit faster than is comfortable. But it will happen and just maybe we can get some democracy back along with some new form of stable state economics. We live in interesting times.

From the protesters:

-President Obama "ordain a Presidential Commission tasked with ending the influence money has over our representatives in Washington".
-This protest represents a variety of demands with a common statement about government corruption and the excessive influence of big business and the wealthiest 1 percent of Americans on U.S. laws and policies.
-Raising taxes on the rich, raising taxes on corporations, ending corporate welfare, support for trade unionism, and protecting Medicare and Social Security in their traditional forms are expressed by some participants.
-Occupy Maine is asking for an investment in public transportation infrastructure and the return home of Maine National Guardsmen from wars overseas.
-Other protesters are calling for an audit or elimination of the Federal Reserve, affordable healthcare, dismantling the military-industrial complex and to end all wars.

The Blackfoot River---Norman Mclean

“Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise." Norman Mclean A River Runs through It

In our travels this fall we could not but help visit the Blackfoot River of Mclean's past. It is in the north, away from the eyes of most, wondering through sheep and cattle country not that far from where they danced at the Rascal Fair. There are few towns, and Missoula is distant by Wisconsin standards.

We travelled along a dusty dirt road to a place we later learned was one of Mclean's favorites, and to a spot that might have been used to shoot the film. As the miles passed, we could see glimpses of the rock-filled river and recall the stunning scenes in the film.

It was, in the film, as if the place was untouched, filled with fish and unencumbered with the trappings of man. Of course, that was not true even in Mcleans time because the area had been timbered, ranched and mined to near exhaustion even in 1920s but there may have been enclaves. Still, for us it was a romantic spot filled with visions of another time.

We pulled of into an official access point and hiked down to the river---this spot certainly looked like the spot where his brother was found naked with the hussy, but then I have a good imagination---for naked women you say. No, for fishing water---with naked women.

I wadded into the stream and cast with great grace every imaginable fly I could think of and to my surprise never raised a single fish. I was as if they were gone, departed, disappointed, to some other section maybe where there had not been so many fisherman dreaming of Norman. For some reason I never took a picture at all. Was it that a simple over site or a act of sadness?

The picture is the Rogue River in Oregon. They are similar---in too many ways.

Pumpkin & Squash---Big is Better

When we returned from our western sojourn we found some six squash, ya they are squash, greater than 25 pounds. They were things of beauty and like many garden experiences where we have done something right, I strutted around the yard like I was somebody. Well. I might have had a beer or two which always makes me feel like I am somebody---and a touch delusional.

In fondling the squash, and one was close to sixty pounds, we began trying to figure out just what to do with the gargantuan monsters. It was not like one could just cook them up and have a nice squash dinner, or a warm spiced squash soup, or even a giant pie. They were really too big to manage. I even had to have the local mussle-bound kid pick the thing and set it in the back yard. It was either that or use a come-along, a pulley system or a helicopter.

We concluded we were going to have to have a festival of sorts that featured squash dishes and invite everyone over we know. This would fill our social obligation of having a fandango once a year and put the squash to good use rather than just displaying them on the front porch as some pagan ritual----even though as pagans, we will being doing some of that anyway.

In truth, these beauties are a food source and this variety is very dense and has an abundance of tasty meat. I was wondering if these were developed by Native Americans to feed a large tribe. Used as a nutritious food storage supply (these puppies last until April), it is possible they could have been stored and eaten much later. They are impressive.

Well, just when I thought we had made a profound discovery, the following pumpkins were seen today in Marion Wisconsin. The biggest one weighted in at 1250 pounds and there were three others that were many hundred. The Indians didn't come up with these. This is the work of modern man, genetics, chemicals (LSD for pumpkins)---and a fork lift. At first thought, they seemed worthless but today I learned on my birthday, Oct 29, the earth will hit 7 billion people. Maybe God made these things in hope of feeding the masses-----or a hell-of-a-big pagan celebration.

What it is all About.

A person can ramble on about the great aspects of life. Oh, some might name the seven wonders and go to tears over the accomplishments, the scale of it all, but as near as I can tell for the average yahoo it comes down to some things more simple, things that are frequently at hand.

I know I can be impressed by a pristine Tiger Swallowtail butterfly, or maybe a deeply colored trout caught at the bottom of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, or climbing a fourteen in Colorado. There are lots of them. I've seen them and they are things of wonder for sure.

Yesterday, the Badgers took Nebraska to a clinic and today the Packers bitch slapped the Broncos. The Brewers are in the playoffs and I have a selection of cold beers, and that does not include the locally made honey liqueur we scored in Madison. It is good out there---excluding the fact that we are going through the Great Adjustment, The Long Emergency, the Sustainable Revolution or what is becoming to be know as The Crash.

But this picture represents something that quite possibly is better. It is the gathering of friends in the company of good food and each other. It seems that no matter how far we may travel, no matter what we see of the physical world, the places, the events, being among friends is priceless.

After just travelling some 3500 miles or more, the time spent laughing and blathering of great deeds, of relating distant experiences among other friends is the most exciting. It is the exchanging of the day, sharing music with grinning musicians, flopping through some marsh with fellow hunters the entire time hassling each other, that really makes the day. I suspect it is why I have always liked the saying from St. Catherine, "All the way to heaven, is heaven."